


Me and My Dumbass Bard

by Bedalk05



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23125870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedalk05/pseuds/Bedalk05
Summary: Jaskier accidentally gets drunk and Geralt has to take care of his dumbass bard.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 22
Kudos: 331





	Me and My Dumbass Bard

Geralt! Where is that tonic for headaches? I’m going nearly blind with the one I currently possess,” Jaskier moaned dramatically.

Rolling his eyes at the bard’s theatrics, Geralt grumbled, “Vial with a circle etched into the stopper.” He turned his attention back to sharpening up his sword as Jaskier rustled through his packs to search for the tonic. 

Since resigning himself to the fact that he can’t get rid of Jaskier, Geralt had begun almost unconsciously adding materials and potions in his travel pack that the human bard would need. Spare strings for his lute, an extra bedroll, and tonics for the headaches Jaskier infrequently suffered from. 

It should bother Geralt how normal it had become, accommodating the bard and ensuring his needs were met, yet Geralt couldn’t find it in himself to worry about it. It had taken him some time and a whole heap of denial, but Geralt had finally accepted the pull he felt toward Jaskier and the power the bard held over him. If he only knew how Geralt was wrapped right around his fingers... 

A disgusted gag dragged Geralt from his musings and he turned to find Jaskier wiping his mouth with a grimace. “I don’t know what you’ve added to this most recent mixture Geralt, but it’s far from your best concoction,” the bard complained. 

Geralt hummed noncommitedly and was about to turn back to his sword when he looked closer at the vial currently gripped in his companion’s hand. Cursing, Geralt leaped up and stalked over to the now swaying man. 

Plucking it from Jaskier’s loosened grasp Geralt took a whiff of it before sighing with exasperation. “This had an etching of a oval, not a circle” he groaned, pinching his nose tightly. The bard’s affronted sputtering did nothing to alleviate the headache now blooming behind Geralt's eyes. 

“Well I’m _sorry_ that I didn’t realize you would have two vials with nearly _identical_ shapes on them,” Jaskier huffed out before freezing. Suddenly turning to face the Witcher Jaskier gripped his arms violently. 

“What did I take Geralt?” he asked with barely contained hysteria. “Am I going to die? Is this it? But I still had so much to live for! So many ballads to write!” 

As the bard continued to babble, Geralt plucked Jaskier’s white-knuckled fingers off his arms like they were weightless feathers before walking away. “Geralt?! GERALT?” The hysterical bard called after him before stumbling to follow. “What did I drink??” 

Settling back by the fire and whetstone, Geralt picked up his sword and returned to his task. “You drank Perfume,” he remarked. “Harmless to humans. Just makes you really drunk.” 

The silence that followed made Geralt want to squirm. Finally, the bard’s flushed face entered his vision upside down, the potion clearly beginning to let its effect be known. “Geeraaaalt,” he drawled lazily. “Why are you carrying perfume?” 

Jaskier blinked innocently as Geralt glared at him before sprawling into the Witcher’s lap. As he watched the bard fall Geralt hurriedly set aside his sword and stone to catch his idiot companion before he impaled himself. It took all of his willpower to shove aside the alluring image that that particular train of thought created. 

Blinking up at the Wicher Jaskier grinned dopily. “Did I ever tell you how pretty your eyes are?” he sighed. Geralt quickly dodged the pair of seeking hands nearly poking his eyes out. “They’re like...mmmm...molten gold and sunlight,” the bard hummed happily, giving up his quest to poke at Geralt’s eyes and resting his hands upon his cheeks instead and patting them. 

Geralt froze at the touch before allowing himself to close his eyes and savor the gentle caressing of soft fingers. He forgives himself this brief moment of weakness; it’s not like the bard will remember any of this tomorrow. 

“The ballads I could sing about your face,” Jaskier murmured dreamily. “You try to look so scary but you’re just a big soft teddy bear!” At this the bard gleefully smushed Geralt’s cheeks together, giggling like a schoolgirl at what it did to Geralt’s face. 

Firmly gripping the bard’s wrists while savagely smothering the growing warmth flooding his chest, Geralt rolled Jaskier off his lap until he plopped face down into the dirt. “...Ow.” 

Rolling his eyes at the bard’s antics Geralt stood up to lay out their bedrolls. Jaskier didn't mean any of those words; they're the ramblings of a drunken bard and nothing more. He ignored the sickening twist in his stomach at this realization and continued readying their camp for bed. 

As Geralt completed his task Jaskier began drunkenly singing a bawdy ballad. Cringing at the dirty lyrics, Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the tunic and dragged him into his bedroll. 

“Sleep,” he commanded, before dropping the bard unceremoniously onto his bed and entering his own. Geralt ignored the bard’s grumbling as he settled into a meditative state. He didn’t trust himself to fall asleep fully with the state Jaskier was currently in. 

The bard had grown suspiciously quiet since he was deposited into his bedroll and Geralt was about to check on him when a pair of hands gripped his bedroll. “Geeraaaalt,” Jaskier slurred. “Lemme in.” The bard tugged uselessly two more times before giving up and simply throwing himself on top of the Witcher. 

“You have your own bedroll,” Geralt growled without opening his eyes. “Use it.” Receiving no response, he was about to throw Jaskier off again when a pair of lips on his neck made him freeze and open his eyes.

The sight before him sent all the blood in Geralt’s body flowing down to a particular organ. There was a fire burning in Jaskier’s gaze and his lips were pursed as though they were begging to be kissed. Straying hands stroked down Geralt’s torso and he found himself arching into the touch. Geralt sensed his willpower start to fail him. 

“But you’re so warm,” Jaskier hummed before kissing and nipping along Geralt’s neck. Shuddering at the teasing touches by the bard, Geralt tamped down on his growing arousal and dumped Jaskier onto the ground for the third time that night. 

“Oof,” a forlorn voice uttered. Lifting himself up, Jaskier straddled Geralt and loomed over him. His hair and tunic askew and his lips and eyes glistening, Jaskier looked like he walked straight out of one of Geralt’s fantasies. Geralt closed his eyes in the hopes of blocking out the alluring sight before him. 

“I know you want me,” Jaskier hummed, making the blood in Geralt’s veins turn cold and causing him to reopen his eyes in a panic

He had worked so hard to hide any hint of his feelings toward the bard. He didn’t need anyone and didn’t want anyone to need him. Having a simple travel companion was enough. If Geralt said this to himself enough times, he was hoping he would start to believe it.

“Been waiting and waiting an’ waiting but you won’t kiss me,” the bard continued with a pout. Geralt had to grip his bedroll until it risked tearing to keep himself from reaching for the bard. 

“Jaskier, you’re drunk,” Geralt gritted out. Slowly Jaskier grinded down on Geralt, making him feel the bard’s cock through his bedroll. 

“Not drunk enough to know what I want,” the bard smirked. “And I want you,” he sighed before claiming Geralt’s lips. Geralt stiffened before finding his resistance crumbling.

With a desperate whine he would deny to his dying day, Geralt responded to the kiss, pulling Jaskier closer until he was flush against him. He released a satisfied rumble as Jaskier rubbed against his hardening cock. 

Jaskier’s lips were softer than Geralt could have imagined and he reveled in the feel of them as he nipped them teasingly. Jaskier’s hands scrabbled along Geralt’s body before finding a hold in his silver locks, causing Geralt to arch against him. 

The groan Jaskier released brought Geralt flying back to his senses and he froze in horror. Pulling away Geralt ground his teeth together before flipping Jaskier off him again. “If you don’t want me to do something you’d regret, stay in your own bed bardling,” Geralt rasped, before turning his back to his drunken companion. 

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

As the sun hit his face, Jaskier slowly blinked his eyes open before immediately regretting his decision and closing them again. “Owwwwww,” he moaned. The amused huff beside him caused Jaskier to reopen his eyes against his better judgment. 

The morning sun’s rays made Geralt’s eyes sparkle and hair shine more than usual. Laying down with what felt like a group of griffins holding a concert in his head, Jaskier firmly believed he could suffer through this pain everyday if he were always greeted with such a sight. 

He must still be pretty out of it because after blinking a few times Jaskier realized that a look of concern had crossed Geralt’s face as he repeated a question for perhaps the fourth or fifth time. “Sorry, what did you say?” Jaskier rasped. 

“I was asking how you felt,” the Witcher grunted as he handed Jaskier a vial to drink from. Eyeing it suspiciously, Jaskier watched as Geralt rolled his eyes in his periphery. 

It’s just water from the stream,” he insisted gruffly. “I needed to find a use for the vial once you wasted a perfectly good potion,” he added with an irritated huff as Jaskier eagerly drank down the water. 

Swallowing the last drop Jaskier rubbed at his eyes before sitting straighter. “What exactly happened last night?” he inquired fuzzily.

“Hmm” Geralt uttered, which Jaskier interpreted as “Don’t wanna talk about it bard.” He had become adept at translating the Witcher’s various monosyllabic responses at this point. 

“C’mon Geralt,” he wheedled. “How am I to write a ballad if I don’t know what occurred?” Jaskier watched Geralt’s face cycle through a couple emotions before settling on irritated and turning away. 

“You were dumb, you got yourself drunk, and you tried to sleep with me,” he rattled out succinctly. Jasker stared at Geralt’s back speechlessly before shaking his head furiously. 

“I’m sorry, tell me that last part again?” he requested weakly, nervously picking at his bedroll. 

This time, Geralt turned to meet Jaskier’s eyes. “You tried to sleep with me,” he repeated bluntly. After a brief hesitation he added softly, “You wished for me to kiss you.” 

Panic gripped Jaskier’s heart at Geralt’s words. This was why he never let himself get drunk around the Witcher; he always feared he would let his wishes be known. Geralt didn’t look disgusted at him but he’d always been an expert at hiding his emotions. 

“I-I’m terribly sorry about that Geralt,” he stuttered out, before scrambling unsteadily to his feet to escape. “I clearly thought you were that lovely barmaid from two towns past,” he lied with a desperate laugh. Jaskier wished to avert his eyes but was caught in the Witcher’s piercing gaze. 

“The thing is,” Geralt began slowly, before stalking toward the bard like a predator hunts it’s prey. “You called me by my name.” Jaskier gulped nervously as they came face to face.

“And you seemed to think I wanted to kiss you back,” Geralt finished at barely a murmur. The two men stood facing each other silently for a spellbound moment before colliding together in a rush of desperate lips and clawing hands. 

Jaskier moaned into Geralt's mouth, tasting the berries he must have eaten for breakfast and slipping his tongue in to lick up more of the taste. 

Smiling at the pleased rumble his action caused, Jaskier began raking his fingers into the silken locks he had longed to touch for so long. The Witcher released a content hum and nipped at Jaskier's bottom lip before deepening their kiss. 

Gripping Jaskier's waist with steady hands, Geralt began rucking up his tunic to touch bare skin. Jaskier couldn't stop the shudder of anticipation run through him at the Witcher's touch. 

How many dreams had he concocted of Geralt's battle-worn hands caressing him? The thought sending a sudden cold chill to rush over him, Jaskier pulled away fearfully. Meeting the Witcher's molten gaze Jaskier begged, "If this is a dream, please don't wake me up." 

Geralt stared at him for a beat before rolling his eyes. "Come here you dumbass bard," Geralt huffed with an affectionate smile, gently tugging Jaskier forward from where he still grasped him. 

"I may be a dumbass but I'm _your_ dumbass," Jaskier stated smugly, gripping Geralt's backside for emphasis as relief washed over him. 

"I'm sure I'll regret that the next time your big mouth gets you in trouble," Geralt deadpanned, silencing any further retort with his lips. 

Eagerly returning the kiss, Jaskier smiled to himself. He'll just have to remind Geralt the perks of keeping him and his mouth around next time the Witcher is exasperated with him. And with that thought, Jaskier dropped down to his knees. No time to remind him like the present!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any errors are my own. Comments and kudos are always welcomed and appreciated.


End file.
